


Road To Recovery

by HayamaRei



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: 479er is awesome, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, FIx It, Injury Recovery, York didn't die when Wyoming shot him, and this shows how he recovered through time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 11:10:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8798602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HayamaRei/pseuds/HayamaRei
Summary: “Hey Carolina, if I said I liked your armor would you hold it against me?” He calls out with a ton more confidence than he actually possesses. Maybe he has enough time to take his gun out and shoot himself for good this time.





	

“Wait, Tex don’t let ‘im-” And then the world goes black for York.

When he comes back around again he is lying on something hard and cold. He’s got no armor on, which means- His mind goes frantic. Delta! He tries to move but it hurts when he’s breathing and all that he manages is a tiny whine of pain and bursts of colour in front of his eye.

“You’re hurt, don’t move. Try to rest.” Says a voice from somewhere. It sounds familiar but so distant and faint that York doesn’t try to figure it out. The world goes black once more.

Next time he wakes up York is lying on something soft. It’s also warm and he can feel a glow on his face, like sunlight. It’s nice.

It takes him some time to open his eyes, they feel heavy and glued shut. But after a few attempts he manages to crack them open and look around. He’s in a small room, the walls are painted a warm yellow and the windows have curtains that have been left open to let sunlight in. He turns his head to see the rest of the room. There’s a low table with stuff scattered around it, a chair by his bed, a sofa pushed in the corner and not much else. His arm has an IV connected to it as well as several machines that monitor his vitals. He doesn’t recognize the place but somehow still feels safe there.

He tries to move and again a sharp pain shoots through his chest and he struggles to take a breath. One of the machines starts beeping and seconds later the door swings open, a short Filipino woman rushes in.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says and presses a button on one of the machines making the pain ease almost instantly. “You’re hurt pretty bad, I wouldn’t move around too much.”

York opens his mouth to speak but it feels like he’s swallowed an entire desert. She takes the hint and quickly offers him some water through a straw. York tires to drink all of it but she pulls it away with a chuckle.

“Easy champ, small steps.”

York takes a moment and then opens his mouth again. “Niner?” He rasps out and her face lights up with a smile.

“Hey.”

So it is her. He has never seen her without her armor before. She wouldn’t hang around them without it and the only person who’d actually known how she looked like had been Carolina. A pang of pain shoots through York’s chest at the thought and this time he knows it wasn’t isn't because of his injuries.

“What happened?”

Her smile falters a little and she sits on the chair. “I’m not sure but, I… I got the message that you were killed. And I know what they were doing to dead agents. Blow up their bodies so the armor wouldn’t get in the wrong hands. And I thought that you don’t deserve that. I wanted to take your body and give you a proper funeral, call me sentimental but you are my friend. And she cared about you, too.” She doesn’t need to say who she’s talking about and York doesn’t try arguing because she hasn’t seen what had happened that day and how Carolina had pretty much given up on him. “I was gonna blow up the armor anyway, just take you, no one would even know.” She looks down at her hands. “When I arrived someone had already triggered the self destruct sequence. I managed to override it just barely on time. When I got you out of your armor you seemed pretty dead. So I loaded you onto the pelican and got rid of the equipment. When I got back to you I saw you breathing. So I took you to the best doctor that I could find and they fixed you up. You’ll live.” She finishes with another brilliant smile. He likes it. It’s warm.

“Thank you.” He says and takes another moment to allow himself to breathe. Talking hurts his chest. “Delta?” He has to know. He doesn’t want to think about his AI being destroyed.

Four-Seven-Niner shakes her head. “He was gone when I arrived. I believe that Wash has him.”

Wash? Since when is he back on duty? York hadn’t thought that they would allow him back after what had happened with Epsilon. The kid deserves a break. Still, he feels relieved that it’s the former rookie who has him. It’s better than the alternative.

“What now?”

“Now you recover.” Four-Seven-Niner replies and pats his hand before leaving him to rest.

\---

It takes York a little over three months to be able to finally move around without feeling like suffocating. It’s a long and frustrating period and he hates it most of the time but at least he’s not alone. His friendship with Four-Seven-Niner develops quickly and she’s always there for him whenever he needs her. Before he knows it she’s the second person in his life he’s ever felt so close to. He tries not to think of the first.

Almost five months after being injured York starts walking on his own again. The injury to his lungs had been very bad, and if it hadn’t been for the healing unit in his armor he would’ve probably died, too. It still hurt to breathe sometimes and he had to take it slow. Sometimes going to the bathroom knocked the air out of him. He knew he would never fully recover.

\---

About a year later York has moved out of Four-Seven-Niner’s apartment and has rented one two floors below. It’s good staying close to her. He can always pop in for dinner or to watch a movie. He’s also found a low profile job, dealing with paperwork for a shipping company. It sucks but he doesn’t have to move too much and the paycheck keeps him afloat. He doesn’t complain.

Alright, he does, and Four-Seven-Niner is sick of it, but that’s really not the point.

He misses Delta. Which is understandable keeping in mind that the green dude had lived in his head for so long. Of course he’ll miss him. Sometimes he misses him so much he imagines entire conversations the two of them would have. Like when work gets tedious he’ll hear Delta make offhand comments about his ability to focus, or rather at the lack of it. He then laughs at it until his chest tightens and he has to focus on something else.

Four-Seven-Niner keeps him updated about the whereabouts of his former teammates to the best of her abilities. He knows about Tex crashing and being presumed dead, he knows about South betraying Wash back when he got shot. He knows that North is dead but he tries not to think about that either. Those people he’d once called family, he doesn’t want to think of them dying in such ridiculous ways because of someone who only gave a damn about himself.

\---

One day he’s sitting on Four-Seven-Niner’s couch, waiting for her to get home so they can watch a movie. It’s their movie night and one of the consistent things in York’s life that he’s grown to look forward to and enjoy. But when she comes in he knows something is wrong. He’s grown quite familiar with her expressions and the way she holds herself in the time they’ve spent together. Her shoulders are locked and her face is blank but her eyes are full of worry. The alarms in his head go off immediately.

“What’s wrong?” He asks before she has had the chance to say something first.

The look she gives him is filled with something strongly resembling pity. “York,” she starts and sits down next to him. “I got an update from project Freelancer,” York’s stomach clenches. “Agent Washington has pursued and defeated the Meta. All of the AIs in his possession got destroyed in an EMP.”

York feels a lump form in his throat but he still holds on. “All of the AIs in his possession, which means that if D wasn’t-”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupts him. “Delta was one of them.”

York storms out of the apartment, running for the first time in nearly two years. His chest burns from the exercise even though he only runs to his own apartment, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care when his lungs feel like they’re about to burst as he curls up in his bed and cries until he blacks out. He doesn’t talk to anyone unless absolutely necessary for a week. He keeps hearing Delta in his mind.

\---

Life continues. The pain of losing Delta never really goes away but it does fade enough to let York go back to normal. But he stops asking for updates. He doesn’t need to know anymore. Freelancer has hurt him enough already, he’s done with it.

Only another year later he gets another piece of information. Four-Seven-Niner comes home from work and her shoulders are locked again but this time her eyes are filled with sorrow.

Halfway through a very silent dinner York can’t help but ask. “What’s wrong?”

She freezes for a part of the second, almost dropping her fork. “Maine and Wash are dead.” She says and the rest of the dinner is drowned in silence.

\---

One more year later York feels like he has gotten used to the civilian life. He’s adopted a cat, unsurprisingly naming it Delta, gotten a promotion and does even more paperwork but at least he can spoil his pet with every toy and treat it wants. He goes to the market and buys organic food, has started occasionally working out. He doesn’t put much effort in it, his chest still burns if he pushes it too far, but it keeps him in a decent shape. And every time he can run a minute longer before his breath leaves him. He likes that, too.

It’s a lovely Saturday afternoon, the sun is shining through the window making the room glow pale yellow, when he receives a file from his only friend.

‘I know you told me not to show you anything anymore, but you really need to see this.’ Is the message that comes with it. York frowns and clicks it open.

He reads the files three times before he’s sure he isn’t seeing things. A flutter in his stomach that he hasn’t felt in years comes back full force and fills him with determination.

She’s alive. He’s known it. All those years she has always been alive. Of course it would take more than a cliff to kill her. And now he knows exactly what she is doing. To find her he has to do the same.

He gets up early the next morning and gets a membership to the nearest gym.

\---

It takes York a month of intense practice to get back in shape. He pushes himself past his limits all the time and he ends up struggling for a breath at least twice a day but it works. It hurts but the more he pushes the more he endures. Carolina always pushed her limits too and that’s why she was the best.

He cannot get back to his previous level, that’s impossible in his state but by the time him and Four-Seven-Niner locate the Director’s whereabouts he’s as ready as he’ll ever be to go out there again.

He knows what Carolina plans to do. He knows her well enough to know that. So he has to wait. She’ll show up eventually.

He waits in a well hidden pelican nearby the facility the Director is in for several days. He doesn’t go in, just waits for Carolina to show up. When she finally does he follows her from a safe distance.

_“I do not think it would be wise of you to follow agent Carolina after you already successfully escaped death once, York.”_ Delta’s voice echoes in his head and he grins.

“Thanks a lot, D.” York replies out loud even if it’s futile. He can’t help but feel bitter about the fact that Epsilon survived.

As he follows his former teammate through the halls of the facility, York also feels a little stupid for not picking up an armor and just going in with civilian clothes and a pistol. But his research hadn’t shown any signs of activity inside the place so he’d assumed it would be safe. He still keeps a good distance just in case. Carolina is a strong girl, she can handle a guy or two if needed. York can join if things start getting heated.

As they move through the voice of a woman carries over the halls. The Director has really lost his mind.

When they reach a big hall full of teleporters York hides behind a crate and observes Carolina and Epsilon from there. It’s better to let them finish what they came for and then reveal his presence.

“Ready to meet your maker?” Carolina’s voice travels over the room and it’s the first time York is close enough to pick up on it. He almost tears up at how much he’s missed it.

He doesn’t have the time to think about it because a moment later she’s disappeared into the teleporter and he has to wait long enough before following her. There’s no telling what’s on the other side and he doesn’t want to just pop up there. He has rehearsed it, everything he’s going to tell her, how he’s going to say it. It’ll be perfect and hopefully she won’t kill him.

He’s still waiting, giving her some head start just in case, when voices travel down the hall and he has to hide again. Are they soldiers? Does he need to hold them off? Will-

His train of thought is cut short when he hears one of them speak. The voice sounds worn out and less cheerful than York has ever heard it but he recognises it still – Washington. Apparently York isn’t the only one who went under the radar like he did. Well, actually him and Carolina. Was anyone actually dead? He shakes his head. No need getting his hopes up like that.

Wash and the rest of his group talk about helping Carolina and York lets them go through the teleporter, deciding to wait again so they wouldn’t spot him either. He wants to say hi to the rookie, but that can wait. Carolina is his priority.

By the time he decides it’s safe to follow after the group they actually come back and York needs to resume his hiding position behind the crate.

“Why does the mean lady get to hang out with Church more? I am his best friend!” One of them says loudly and the group sighs collectively.

“Church and Carolina need to do something on their own, Caboose. They’ll be back in no time.” Wash explains and they proceed towards the exit.

So she’s found him. There is no point going further, York decides and remains to wait for her to come back. His heart thunders in his ears and he feels adrenaline rush over him.

He doesn’t know how long he’s waited but after a while the teleporter buzzes and Carolina steps through. She’s walking slowly and Epsilon is hovering over her shoulder. They pass by the crate York is hiding behind and once her back is fully facing him he stands up.

Now is the time. He opens his mouth but no words come out. She’s still walking, almost out of the hall now. He panics. What was he supposed to say? He can’t let the moment slip! He has to say something.

“Hey Carolina, if I said I liked your armor would you hold it against me?” He calls out with a ton more confidence than he actually possesses. Maybe he has enough time to take his gun out and shoot himself for good this time.

Carolina stops in her steps and quickly whips around. York can’t see her face through the visor and he isn’t sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. She just stares at him and he braces himself. He expects a punch. Or something thrown at him. Or maybe even to get shot again. He’s earned it.

But she just keeps staring. “What kind of a game is this?” She finally demands and her voice is colder than the ices of Sidewinder.

York isn’t sure what answer would be the correct one. His mind isn’t even working properly. Carolina is actually there and alive and talking to him and that’s made him lose all the smoothness he has. His brain is only working at twenty percent the most. He’s just about to try and get an explanation out when Epsilon clears his throat (why would an AI need to clear their throat? Do they even have throats?)

“Actually, Carolina, my scans show that this is agent York.” He says. “Memories of Delta’s database confirm it. It’s York.”

The silence that follows is deafening, the tension feeling too big for the room, threatening to burst through the walls.

“You died.” She finally says.

A laugh bubbles out of York’s throat despite the situation. “You too.”

In a moment Carolina is reaching up and taking her helmet off, and oh, she’s still just as gorgeous as he remembers. There are tears in her eyes, too. She won’t let them fall, it isn’t like her, but York will take what he can, and this? He’ll take it all. Because these are for him and him only and he’ll cherish that.

York doesn’t know what he expects next. Maybe she’ll run into his arms and tell him she missed him? Or shout at him?

She doesn’t. Instead she takes her gun out and in a few swift moves she has it pressed against his chest so hard it actually hurts. But he doesn’t move or look away. He looks into her eyes and she looks back for what seems like forever. And then, just like that, she drops the gun and pulls him into a hug.

It’s tight, too tight, and her armor isn’t the most comfortable thing to hug, but in that moment it’s the most perfect thing in the world. He hugs back.

When they finally part, after god knows how much, Epsilon is still hovering awkwardly a few feet away. York looks into Carolina’s eyes and they’re bright and smiling. He smiles back and offers his hand. She takes it and they head out. And maybe they look kind of ridiculous. Her in full body armor which actually makes her look a bit taller than him and him in civilian clothes. But it doesn’t matter to them, York laughs it off.

With the Director gone and Freelancer no more, for the first time since he woke up in Four-Seven-Niner’s apartment years ago, York feels truly free.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that had been sitting unfinished in my files for a long time and I decided it was finally time to get it out of my head. 
> 
> I wish I could do more and give all the freelancers a happy ending. Or at least an alive one, but this is all I can do for now. 
> 
> I'm leaving this work as unfinished for the moment because I am planning on writing an additional part where York meets Wash and the Blood Gulch Crew. But I don't know when that will happen. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this and I'd love to hear what you guys thought!


End file.
